


All Our Days

by BoneStudio



Series: Everyday Heroes [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Children of Characters, Dad Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Dad Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hanzo Shimada has Prosthetic Legs, Humor, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, Magic and Science, Multi, No M-Preg, Polyglot Jesse McCree, Tagging People As They Are Mentioned, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-04-23 15:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14335569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoneStudio/pseuds/BoneStudio
Summary: Jesse and Hanzo’s lives have changed drastically ever since their sons entered the world. But they made a vow to each other and their sons under the watchful eyes of the Spirit Dragons to protect their family for all their days. Throw in an ever-changing world, family friends, and a budding new generation - they truly have their work cut out for them.Inspired by the song 'All Our Days' from RWBY.Chapter 5: Hanzo reflects on his life and the changes that have come.





	1. A Strange Feeling

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ordinary Heroes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/580307) by [Raziel12](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raziel12/pseuds/Raziel12). 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo assesses a strange feeling.

There was something that felt off whenever Hanzo was called away from his daily life to attend a meeting or give aid on a mission. He was used to the call of duty, having heard the familiar drone of Soldier 76’s voice far too many times, and it wasn’t often that he lingered instead of rushing off. Punctuality was one of the lessons that the elders instilled in him at a young age and for years he strived to meet every time hack at least a half-hour earlier than needed. Yet, he couldn’t help but linger in the doorway of his shared space with Jesse and their children, watching them carefully from afar as Jesse regaled their sons with stories to their enjoyment. 

Jesse understood his need to be punctual and kept their sons from intruding every few moments while he prepared himself. And while he held his reputation in high regard, Hanzo couldn’t say that he didn’t miss seeing their faces or hearing their voices. The quiet that he surrounded himself with so long felt boorish and long compared to the noise and joy his family brought to his world. 

My family, he thought and a small smile crept its way onto his face as a warm fuzzy feeling bloomed in his chest. 

Genji had told him once before that he’d felt homesick upon coming to Overwatch. But as time went on, he found that it wasn’t a loss of home that made him feel that way, but a loss of the people he’d known. It struck Hanzo to his core to know that his little brother missed him despite everything that he’d done. And he fought against Genji’s sentiments for some time before conceding that perhaps he felt the same. Hanamura was a beautiful place despite the blood-ridden serpents who dared to call themselves descendants of the dragons. Though, it was no longer home for him. 

Home was the people sitting in front of him and the ones meandering about the base. 

It was two little boys curled up at his husband’s side listening to his stories with wide eyes and bright smiles. A man with a unique yet ridiculous style of dress, an infectious smile, and a heart greater than anyone Hanzo had ever met. The same man who caught his stare and flashed a warm crooked grin that made the color rise to Hanzo’s cheeks. He turned his head away, embarrassed at being caught staring, and rubbed at his cheek with one gloved hand to try and stave off the change in color. 

The sound of hurried footsteps was a precursor to his youngest son’s flying tackle hug and subsequent kiss to the cheek. Hanzo shut one of his eyes and smiled, returning the kiss with one to the boy’s forehead, chuckling at his squeal of disapproval at his beard’s “itchiness”. His eldest son’s approach was much quieter and slower as he rose from the couch and made his way over to Hanzo with his hands tucked in his pockets. 

“Dad! Are you going soon?” The younger boy asked, wrapping his arms loosely around Hanzo’s neck as the archer held him. Looking at his youngest son, Hanzo found himself taking in his features as if it was the first time he’d ever seen him. 

Warmth radiated from the boy like a furnace and his sunny smile reminded Hanzo far too much of Jesse. Inviting, understanding, full of life and excitement. Combined with shaggy locks of brown hair barely brushing against his shoulders, tawny-brown skin dotted with freckles across his nose and cheeks, and those dark eyes that were unmistakably his own. 

His brother was no different, Hanzo thought, as he looked at his eldest. Hair darker than ink tied back in a ponytail swaying from side to side as he walked, hazel eyes that surely came from Jesse looked up at him expectantly, and an easy-going smile etched on his face. Few freckles dotted across his nose, his skin a yellowish-brown color from hours spent in the sun. 

It was as if the world decided to take the better parts of both of himself and Jesse, place them together, and create their children. Both boys stared up at him with all of the love and affection that the world could offer. Hanzo’s heart feeling heavy in his chest with the idea that he’d have to leave them soon. The tattoo on his left arm itching as the dragons goaded him into staying just a little while longer. They loved the boys almost as much as they loved him and... 

“---Hanzo?” 

Jesse. 

Hanzo looked up to meet his husband’s worried gaze. From the corner of his eye, he could see his eldest staring up at him worriedly. Had he zoned out that much? 

“Yer gonna be late, darlin’,” he says slowly, reaching out to take their youngest son from Hanzo’s arms. “I’ll be with the kids, we were gonna go out t’day.” 

“No.” 

Jesse’s eyebrows raised until they nearly disappeared into his hair. “Pardon?” 

“I think I can stand to be a little late today,” Hanzo said. 

After all there was nothing like being home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been awhile, hasn't it?
> 
> I came back from a rather interesting experience and I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. That includes re-introducing myself to the Overwatch fandom. If any of you have read my fic "Everyday Heroes", you'll know who the two children introduced in this chapter are. I'm going to be working on my writing style and including more of the Overwatch cast in my works.
> 
> So if you like what I do, please support me by [buying me a cup of coffee](https://ko-fi.com/skelebones).
> 
> You can send messages and requests to my tumblr [@officialbonesblog](https://officialbonesblog.tumblr.com/).
> 
> And I'm happy to be back!


	2. Character Profiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A while ago, I was asked about the Shimada-McCree kids, so I thought it'd be nice to dedicate a chapter to all of the OC children in Everyday Heroes universe. This chapter will be updated from time to time so I'll let you (the reader) know when a new character has been added. Feel free to send in headcanons, thoughts, etc. to @skele-bones.

**Name:** Gabriel Shimada-McCree  
**Nicknames:** Gabe (everyone), Little Gabe (everyone), Death the Kidd (superhero name), Gabi (Aunt Sombra), Test Subject #3 (Aunt Moira), Reaper Jr. (Grandma Ana), Otouto (Shingen), Kiddo (Big Gabe/Jesse), Partner in Crime (Aunt Sombra), Scout (Grandpa Jack)  
**Age:** 6 years old (7-9 depending on chapter)  
**Birthday:** August 16th  
**Gender:** Male  
**Pronouns:** He/Him

 **Hair Color:** Chestnut Brown  
**Eye Color:** Dark Brown  
**Height:** 42 inches (3 feet and 6 inches/107 cm)  
**Weight:** 50 lbs (23 kg)

 **Appearance**  
Gabriel is the shortest in the Shimada-McCree family. Soft, thick and curly messy chestnut brown hair that stops just shy of passing his earlobe. He has brown doe eyes, a wide broad nose, thick eyebrows and usually can be seen with a crooked smile. His skin is a sun-kissed brown color and he has a few scars on his arms and legs (just knicks and bruises from childhood endeavors). One important scar being the one across his nose from an incident that happened when he was very young (around three or four). It’s faint but still there, and he doesn’t know the story behind it exactly.  
  
He has freckles on his shoulders, cheeks and across his nose, some even dotting his forearms.  
  
His favorite color to wear is purple but he likes to wear red and gold too because it reminds him of his pa. He has his own Stetson with a red and gold sash (similar to Hanzo’s) tied around it. His clothing choice is usually shorts (unless he was told to wear pants because it’s cold outside) and a tank top, preferably with some sort of symbolism.

 **Personality**  
Gabriel is a happy go-lucky child with a heart big enough to accept anyone that he meets. His rambunctious nature and curiosity of the world around him often gets him into trouble. Although, considering that he's the youngest of the Shimada-McCree family, Gabriel often has his older brother and parents to help him when he's down. He's small in stature but his dreams are larger than life itself. Determination and a go-getter attitude keep him from getting down in his spirits even when his dreams are unrealistic.  
  
He places a tremendous amount of trust in the people around him --- especially his elder brother, Shingen. When his head is too far in the clouds and he gets ahead of himself, Gabriel trusts his older brother will bring him back down to Earth. This doesn't mean that he goes without a fight. Sometimes, he can be rather stubborn and refuses to listen to reason until something happens that makes him open his eyes.  
  
Like his papa, Gabriel is satisfied with someone's word. He believes in the power of honesty and thinks that if someone says something, they'll go through with it. When he's proven wrong, however, he becomes upset and will be less likely to believe them if they tell him something at a later date. Gabriel's anger is much like his papa's as well, because of his cheerful nature, he's hard to anger but also hard to calm down as well.  
  
Often times, the only person who can calm him down is his older brother, the two having opposite temperaments. Gabriel's burning bright like a flame and dying down with residual smoke once he's calmed. He is less likely to forget someone that's wronged him or his family. His grudges lasting days, weeks, months -- years even! Don't let his small size fool you, he has the heart of a lion and will protect his family to the very last.  
  
Despite his papa and dad's questionable pasts, Gabriel believes that everyone should be forgiven. His forgiving nature often gives way to a slightly gullible outlook on the world. One of which leaves him open to being taken advantage of if he's not careful. But he's far from being a doormat or someone stupid. He doesn't appreciate being made a fool of although he's a good sport when the joke's been played on him fairly. Gabriel has grown up with the trickiest of people and can tell when he's being played. It's just likely that he'll play along only to pull the rug out from someone else.  
  
Like his grandfather and namesake, he has a strong sense of justice and believes that it has to be delivered or else the world will be a bad place. He tries to help in his own way and his unorthodox methods often make a mess of things but he's usually willing to help clean it up. Anybody who does wrong-doings are immediately on his watchlist and he'll make sure that you pay the price for what you've done. Remarkably, this doesn't extend to pranks as he believes that those are fair game, but he will get his revenge (something he inherited from his Aunt Sombra).  
  
Gabriel's favorite color is purple and black. His grandpa Gabe's alter ego, Reaper, is his inspiration for his own superhero name "Death the Kid". A lot of his costumes being modeled after Reaper's clothing as well. His reason for liking purple is about the same. His dad usually wears blue and his papa usually wears red, and since he's a mix of both of them (interpreted from Aunt Moira's explanation of his birth), he decided to wear purple to honor them both.  
  
Gabriel is an unusual child. He's creative in his own way, views the world differently than most, and is a free spirit. Sometimes it's hard for the others in his family to understand what he's thinking. But he can always count on them to have his back in the long run.

 **Likes:** his big brother, his parents, his extended family, denim clothes, wearing his papa's hat, the spirit dragons, flowers, jokes, food, pranks, hugs, kisses, stationary, rainy days, sunny days, the beach, comic books, superheroes, omnics, fruit, sweets, animals, baggy clothes, having his picture taken, creative writing, running (everywhere), games, meeting new people, bugs  
  
**Dislikes:** being alone, long fingernails, cleaning his room, brussel sprouts, guacamole, being sick, horror movies, sad movies, crying, being alone, liars, people who pick on his brother, people who talk bad about his family, the number two (literally, the number), having short hair, pesticides, omnic haters, being mad for no reason, unnecessary fighting, being angry  
  
**Hobbies:** writing fiction stories, playing pranks with Aunt Sombra, practicing playing guitar with Big Gabe, helping Bastion with his garden, inventing new games to play, practicing shooting (with dummy bullets), playing Dungeons and Dragons LARP with the family, learning new languages with Jesse, dancing, watching Pachimari Man or Beaniewatch on TV.

 **Family**  
  
**Immediate Family:** Jesse (father), Hanzo (father), Shingen (older brother), Soba and Udon (spirit guardians)  
  
**Extended Family:** Genji (uncle), Zenyatta (uncle), Lúcio (uncle), Tsubaki (cousin), Hana (aunt), Brigitte (aunt), Sombra (aunt), Moira (aunt), Gabriel Reyes (grandpa), Jack (grandpa), Ana (grandma), Reinhardt (grandpa), Torbjörn (grandpa), Ingrid (grandma), Torbjorn's brood (cousins), Emily (aunt), Lena (aunt), Amelie (aunt), Akande (uncle), Winston (uncle), Zarya (aunt), Mei (aunt), Bastion (friend), Orisa (friend), Efi (older sister), Mondatta (uncle/deceased), Athena (aunt), Satya (aunt), Angela (aunt), Fareeha (aunt), Roadhog (uncle), Junkrat (uncle), Sojiro (grandfather/deceased), Gerard (uncle/deceased)

* * *

**Name:** Shingen Shimada-McCree  
**Nicknames:** Shi (family/friends), Test Subject #1 (Aunt Moira), Anija (Little Gabe), Most Honorable Nephew (Uncle Genji/jokingly), Little Helper (Aunt Angela), Player 2 (Aunt Hana), Shiggy (Uncle Lúcio), Kid Ninja (Uncle Lúcio), Hanmini (Aunt Hana), Black Ranger (Aunt Sombra), Sharpshooter (Jesse/Papa), Kiddo (Jesse/Papa), Sun (Hanzo/Dad), Heir (Grandpa Sojiro)  
**Age:** 9 years old (10-12 depending on chapter)  
**Birthday:** September 16th  
**Gender:** Male  
**Pronouns:** He/Him

 **Hair Color:** Inky black  
**Eye Color:** Hazel-brown  
**Height:** 57 inches (4 feet and 9 inches/144 cm)  
**Weight:** 65 lbs (30 kg)

 **Appearance**  
Shingen is the third tallest (to his brother’s dismay). He has thick black hair that stops at the middle of his back. Usually, he ties it up in a pony-tail with a blue ribbon or anything else that he has on hand. If left to its own devices, his hair has a tendency to get everywhere (as evident when he wakes up and looks like the dead).  
  
His eyes are hazel brown, a broad nose, eyebrows thick with a natural arch, and usually looks very unimpressed or disinterested. His skin is a warm olive color, a few faded scars on his arms and ankles and legs along with callouses on his palms from practicing (though he gets them healed up before they can get too bad).  
  
He doesn’t have an important scar like his brother or his papa’s crooked smile, but his scowls, smiles, and various other expressions are similar to his dad’s (albeit with less intensity because he’s still young).  
  
His favorite color to wear is gold and black but sometimes he’ll wear blue to honor his dad or red for his papa. He usually wears a t-shirt or hoodie, pants and high-top shoes. Shorts are usually reserved for if it’s very hot and tank tops are usually sleepwear.

 ** Personality **  
With a calm and collected personality, Shingen has considered himself as one of the more “normal” people in his family. Patience is a virtue and with a family as eccentric as his own; it’s a wonder how he hasn’t lost all of his. Shingen’s sensitivity to the spirits allows him to transcend from humanity and reach a higher understanding. Yet despite this gift, he is still young and doesn’t fully understand what the spirits show him.  
  
However, like his Papa, Shingen is open-minded and willing to take in new possibilities. Uncertainty doesn’t scare him and he craves new adventures rather than a routine. His penchant for finding new things to do often gets him in trouble when he’s goaded into breaking rules or his curiosity outweighs his sensibility. Sometimes, he’ll follow his younger brother Gabriel and cousin Tsubaki not only to be there for them but because he was curious himself.  
  
Shingen understands his little brother in a way that most do not. While he has friends outside of his family, Gabriel remains as one of the people Shingen talks to the most. Like his dad, he has a hard time creating relationships with other people until a sufficient time is spent with them. He is rather picky of those he allows in his inner circle. And transgressions made against himself and his family aren’t taken lightly. But most of all, Shingen is highly protective over his little brother.  
  
Half of his troublemaking comes from following after Gabriel and protecting him from danger. He’s often teased for having a weakness for his little brother just like his parents do for theirs. But he’s learned to have a firm yet gentle stance with his far more mischievous family members.  
  
Like his dad, he retains his anger well and expels it in different ways. Mostly in creative ways that make him feel better. Shingen has a sense for the arts and despite his mature ways, he is still a child at heart. He’s fascinated by cartoons and books, loves talking about them, and learning about the world around him. But most importantly, he loves creating rather than destroying.  
  
A trait that would have made him a horrid pick for the heir of the Shimada but an excellent hero.  
  
Shingen’s favorite colors are gold and black. His uncle says that his fashion choices are much better than his fathers’ and brings out his eyes and hair. Most of the time, he mimics his dad by wearing his hair pulled back but instead of a high ponytail, he wears a low one. Though seeing as he has a bad habit of losing his hair ties on accident - his hair is normally down. The symbolism of the Shimada Clan is ever present on most of his clothing. One day, he aspires to make it a symbol of hope rather than fear.

 **Likes:** sweets, thunderstorms, warm hugs, fish, meditation, pools of water, cold days, spirits, honoring his grandfather, baking, the color gold, long hair, ribbons, colorful drawings, manga, cartoons, old literature, astronomy, good night kisses, uncertainty, change, omnics, robotics, tinkering, archery, swordsmanship, heights  
  
**Dislikes:** people who pick on his family, vegetables, hot days, stuffy clothing, people who abuse his family’s traditions or make fun of them, those who abuse the Shimada name, short hair, impatience, being woken up, nightmares, stagnation, soggy noodles, soggy cereal, omnic haters, getting things in his hair, being a kid, making people cry, losing, failure  
  
**Hobbies:** drawing portraits and landscapes, practicing his archery and swordsmanship, exploring with his cousin and brother, helping Bastion with his garden, cooking with his family, playing video games with his Aunt Hana, listening to music, sleeping in warm places, collecting rocks and gemstones, talking to the spirits, being a model for his Grandpa Gabe, dancing with Aunt Amélie and Uncle Genji, looking after his little brother, photography, meditating with Tsubaki

 **Family**  
  
**Immediate Family:** Jesse (father), Hanzo (father), Gabriel (little brother), Soba and Udon (spirit guardians)  
  
**Extended Family:** Genji (uncle), Zenyatta (uncle), Lúcio (uncle), Tsubaki (cousin), Hana (aunt), Brigitte (aunt), Sombra (aunt), Moira (aunt), Gabriel Reyes (grandpa), Jack (grandpa), Ana (grandma), Reinhardt (grandpa), Torbjörn (grandpa), Ingrid (grandma), Torbjorn's brood (cousins), Emily (aunt), Lena (aunt), Amelie (aunt), Akande (uncle), Winston (uncle), Zarya (aunt), Mei (aunt), Bastion (friend), Orisa (friend), Efi (older sister), Mondatta (uncle/deceased), Athena (aunt), Satya (aunt), Angela (aunt), Fareeha (aunt), Roadhog (uncle), Junkrat (uncle), Sojiro (grandfather/deceased), Gerard (uncle/deceased)


	3. Meet and Greet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji worries over whether or not he will be a good father and Hanzo helps his brother to reflect.

When Genji was a little boy, his attention span was shorter than the nail of his pinky finger. Determination to absorb everything within his reach outweighed the cost of his mischief and Hanzo, the dutiful elder brother, was left to pick up the pieces in wake of his brother’s chaos. In his youth, Hanzo found the task to be annoying and a waste of his time but he hadn’t realized just how much color Genji brought to his life until it was gone. Now that they were reunited and their relationship was slowly mending itself, they were able to support one another rather than constantly take and take. So as Genji paced through Bastion’s garden, fingers worrying his chin, and muttering nonsensical words to himself — Hanzo took it upon himself as the older brother to help his brother through his time of need.

Though that might have been easier if Genji had taken notice of him. Thirty minutes into entering the garden after Bastion alerted him to Genji’s pacing, the younger Shimada hadn’t taken notice of his brother in the slightest. Hanzo watched his brother practically dig a path between Bastion’s wisterias, eyes unfocused and words grumbled beneath his breath. Barely making out the words “baby”, “coming”, “Zenyatta” and “Lucio”, Hanzo rolled his eyes to the heavens and sent a prayer to their ancestors to give him strength. The dragons rumbled beneath his skin, their roaring thunderous voices akin to laughter echoing in Hanzo’s mind.

Deciding that Genji would soon wear a hole down in the grass and incite Bastion’s wrath, Hanzo stood up and moved to stand in his brother’s way. Genji turned on his last stride and nearly knocked into Hanzo, his eyes unfocused as he blinked away a glossy-eyed gaze.

“Brother, be honest with me,” Genji said, his voice small and shaky. “Were you this nervous?”

Hanzo eased his little brother to the ground by his shoulders, feeling the steam exude from his ventilators. The elder Shimada gently patted his brother’s cheek, heart wrenching at the sight of his baby brother’s worried and almost vacant stare.

“I cannot help but wonder what if something happens to the child because of the dragons, because of me,” Genji continued, wrapping his arms around himself as he rocked back and forth. “We believed our family line would stop with us but our progeny may pay for our sins a—“

“Were you not worried about your own son about what would come from him being related to you?”

Almost everyday, Hanzo wanted to say. He thought about his little boy laying in his crib and kicking his little feet up. Waving chubby hands around as he tried to make out the dragons’ shape, and bring them closer to his grasp. Dark hair, black as ink, and softer than anything Hanzo had ever touched before would slip through his fingers as he gently brushed the baby’s hair back. Hazel brown eyes peering up at him curiously, a widening smile forming, the baby’s hands reaching for him despite all he’d done before.

“Shingen,” Hanzo whispered, seeing his baby boy smile and laugh made him fear for the future he could have had. Where he was born to lead and become a man “worthy” of his father’s love as if being born wasn’t enough. Trained and pushed to his limits then past them, kept at a distance to where Hanzo would barely recognize him until the day he was ready to succeed as was his birthright.

Their curse. The Shimada curse.

If it touched his precious treasures, his sweet little Shingen and his Jesse — Hanzo perished the thought.

“Shingen was worth the fear,” Hanzo nodded along with his words and held his brother’s gaze. “When your child is born, you will look them in the eyes and feel as though all your past transgressions have been forgiven because they are here. They love you unconditionally and do not judge you for what you cannot help. All they ask in return is for you to love them and care for them.”

Genji stared at him but whether it was with awe or confusion, Hanzo couldn’t tell. The cyborg sighed and his hands laid loosely in his lap rather than in the pose he used during his meditations. Shoulders slumped and head lowered, a pose that Hanzo knew well from their youth. This was truly bothering his little brother and when the weight fo the world became too much for the younger Shimada, it was up to his older brother to distract him with something both meaningful and fun. Hanzo wrapped an arm around Genji’s shoulders, gently leading him to lean against his side. Genji followed without much prompting and rested his head against his older brother’s shoulder, eyes downcast and not a trace of his usual mischievous smile.

Hanzo’s heart ached but he pressed forward, rubbing small circles on his brother’s arm, where the connectors met flesh. Old feelings of self-loathing and hatred at the pain he caused his younger brother set aside — Genji did not need a reminder o fall that had been broken, Hanzo reminded himself. He needed his big brother.

“If we are the brothers of legend, is this what our ancestors meant?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Hanzo could see Genji glance up at him. His harsh words at calling his father’s lessons “stories” rang true with the younger Shimada and never brought it up since their last moment in Shimada Castle. But having a child of his own and contemplating the arrival of another one made Hanzo consider the meaning behind his father’s stories. What it would mean for his own children and for himself and Genji.

“Are they what we sought to create?” Genji asked, his voice soft and small, like a child afraid to speak their mind.

Hanzo smiled softly and rested his cheek against his younger brother’s head. He sighed, staring at the myriad of flowers planted by Bastion and many of the Overwatch members the omnic could rope in to helping him. It was a calming constant underneath a clear blue sky. And with the warm weather, Genji tucked at his side, Hanzo felt at peace.

“I do not know. I do not feel like a legend,” Hanzo admitted, snorting at the idea of being taken as one. “I feel like a man.”

A man with so many things to lose. A man who once held the world at his fingertips and would have done anything to keep it that way.

“I was once an heir to a legacy of blood and bone, and I was once a son.”

An heir who once held the world at his fingertips and would have done anything to keep it that way. A son, fearful of disappointing his father, and betraying what he was told from birth would be his “destiny”.

“I am now a husband, a brother, a friend, and —“

A brother who had hurt the person that he loved the most and repented for it. A friend who could bleed, feel pain, regret, grief, love, torture, and peace all at once but continue moving. A husband that helped to create life with someone who was too good for this world.

“Brother, I—” Genji began, his eyes misty and mouth open poised to speak apologies and forgiveness.

And like an angel of mercy, jingling spurs and soft cooing diverted Hanzo’s attention to the nearby walkway where an all-too familiar cowboy ambled through, a baby swaddled in his serape, hand fisted in his beard. Although hardships, worries, and time had drawn wrinkles to Jesse McCree’s face, it did little to take away from his beauty. Small strands of silver could be found in his chestnut brown hair and beard if one looked closely, but Hanzo had mapped out every bit of his Jesse from the moment they met to now. The cowboy’s attention was entirely taken by the baby in his arms as he made faces and cooed softly, pressing his nose against the small boy’s.

“A father,” Hanzo said breathily, his features softening as he was unable to keep away his smile.

Jesse seemed to hear him because the cowboy looked away from their son and met his eyes. The corners of his lips turning upwards, making the scar on his lip move as well, eyes full of affection and love and so many emotions Hanzo couldn’t pinpoint from this distance. Genji glanced between them then chuckled beneath his breath, clearing his throat to garner the attention of both men. Jesse blinked owlishly as he came back to reality, the tug from the babe in his arms helping to ruin the mood. Rubbing at his chin, he chuckled and smiled at them.

“Sorry to interrupt y’all but Genji, ya got a visitor for ya in the medbay.”

Genji stiffened up at that and carefully slid from Hanzo’s hold, clamoring to his feet and making a mad dash for the door. But he stopped before he could disappear into the corridor, turning around and bending into a low bow that would have made their childhood tutors cheer.

“Thank you, Jesse. And you as well, anija.”

When he rose, he smiled at Hanzo then Jesse. Stepping closer to Jesse to regard the baby in his arms with warm eyes, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then disappearing before the child could register what had happened. Hanzo sighed. He could only hope that he’d helped Genji because this was where the real adventure began. Their journey to fixing everything that they had broken. The archer stood up, patting off the grass and dirt that clung to his pants before making his way to his family.

“Ya’ll had a good talk?” Jesse asked, walking alongside him.

“Yes,” Hanzo replied, glancing up at his husband then down to his son. “We did.”

Placing a hand against Jesse’s shoulder to stop his strides, the archer caressed the side of his face, coaxing him into leaning down for a kiss. It was soft and chase but lingered much longer than their usual public kisses would have. Jesse didn’t smell like his cigars lately. A promise to himself and Angela that he wouldn’t smoke around his son (with whom he spent most of his time) because of the baby’s developing body. But Jesse did smell like the earth, and sunshine, and he kissed nice and slow. Languidly. Almost as if it was their first time all over again.

And once the kiss broke, Hanzo opened his eyes and saw Jesse still had his closed. The archer smiled and eased their son out of Jesse’s hands as the cowboy came back from cloud nine. Shingen looked up at him and squealed in excitement, reaching up to grab at his beard with deft fingers. Pressing a kiss to his small head, the baby hummed in contentment and played with the buttons on Hanzo’s shirt instead.

“Must’ve been a mighty fine talk,” Jesse said dreamily, planting another kiss against the side of Hanzo’s head.

“No, I am just happy that you are here with me.”

He briefly looked at Jesse and noticed that the cowboy’s cheeks were tinted a ruddish red color. Rubbing the back of his neck, worrying his bottom lip and trying not to smile. That was Hanzo’s Jesse. A beautiful mess of a man. Small hands grasped Hanzo’s beard in his distraction and the archer had only a few seconds to notice before he was yanked into a world of pain. Grumbling, he rubbed at his chin and spared his son a fondly exasperated glance.

“And you as well, little one,” he nuzzled his face against Shingen’s cheek, the baby reveling in the attention. “Let us meet your cousin, shall we?”

Shingen released his beard and settled in his blanket, looking around the corridor with renewed interest as his fathers resumed their walk. While Hanzo was relieved that he wasn’t resorting to pulling at their beards anymore, Jesse seemed perturbed by the way Shingen watched the pathway they walked down rather than looking everywhere.

“Y’know, sometimes I think he can understand what you’re saying.”

“Well, he does have your intelligence,” Hanzo started with a nonchalant shrug. “I would not be surprised.”

“Hun, did you just call me smart?”

Jesse McCree is the picture perfect form of a man bedazzled. Eyebrows raised into the stratosphere, smiling from ear to ear, and one arm slung around Hanzo’s shoulders. Unable to look away from those whiskey brown eyes, Hanzo instead tries to channel all of the training he’d received as the heir to a yakuza clan. All of the years of calm and disinterest that would make both his allies and enemeis quiver before him. But at one side glance towards Jesse’s face, brimming with happiness and love, Hanzo folds.

“Fishing for compliments is bad form, Jesse,” Hanzo chides, though there is no heat to his words.

Jesse pouts, switching tactics to half-hearted pleading, “Aw c’mon Han.”

“You do not need my opinion, Jesse,” Hanzo rolls his eyes. Jesse McCree is a force of nature. He can do anything that he sets his mind to and destroy anyone in his path. There was —

“Nah, but I’d sure appreciate it.”

“You are a very capable man, Jesse McCree.”

“Shimada-McCree, darlin’.”

The way Jesse can say their last names so effortlessly. Compliment him like it’s nothing, with no strings attached, just that he wanted Hanzo to know how special he was. Take an interest in what he’s thinking and what his opinions may be rather than disregarding them. Treating him as an equal in both the field and their daily lives.

And just like that. Hanzo remembers why he fell in love with this man in the first place. Why the small child in his arms bears their names and has the same colored eyes as Jesse’s. Why he can still hold onto Genji and remember the bond that they had before their world was torn apart.

Love.

“Your father is a fool,” Hanzo says to Shingen, the little boy looking up at him with those eyes. Whiskey-brown eyes that are so much like Jesse’s curiously taking him in and Hanzo wonders if Shingen can understand him. The babe kicks his feet in response, the serape sliding from around his shoulders, and he gives Hanzo a toothless smile. Squealing with glee as the archer presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Yes, Yes. I know.. I love him too,” Hanzo can feel Jesse’s eyes on him and shifts Shingen to the crook of his arm, giving his free hand for the cowboy to hold. “And you as well, little sun.”

Shingen coos softly, his little noises being the only sound that permeates the otherwise comfortable silence as they walked to the medbay. The door slides open revealing a tired Angela, Fareeha and Ana at her side, one sporting a worried expression while the other is eyeing the room carefully. Genji is occupied with a small bundle in Lucio’s arm, Zenyatta standing near them to Hanzo’s surprise. There are very few times that he actually sees the omnic stand rather than float serenely throughout the room. But the three are enraptured by the human being set between them, and Hanzo feels the graviation of the room pulled towards it.

Along with the elephant in the room.

Moira watches from the nearest window, occupied with a holo-pad, disinterest exuding despite the heart-warming scene displayed before her. This clinical coldness Hanzo had witnessed more than once. The first time being his meeting with the Talon executives, Moira O'Deorain and Akande Ogundimu. The way she assessed him and expressed an interest in figuring how the dragons “worked” solidified that he could not trust this woman. And he would not trust her until…

“Brother, come here!”

Genji called out to him excitedly, bringing Hanzo back to reality. A shadow of doubt no longer clouded the younger Shimada’s face. His smile was wide, eyes bright just as they were when he was a boy, and he seemed so much younger despite the scars on his face. Bundling up the small child, Genji crossed the room briskly to stand before Hanzo and the elder Shimada couldn’t help but notice the irony of the situation. Two brothers who had taken so much from one another, destroyed each other, changed one another, and returned to fight again at eachother’s sides were holding children of their own blood.

Progeny who could fall into their own misgivings if they were not careful.

But the way that Genji looked at his child. WIth all of the love and happiness that he could muster, Hanzo couldn’t see a future of blood and tears for Shingen and their new family member. Only love and if their ancestors were willing — peace.

“Well, look at this lil’ one,” Jesse chimed in, whistling lowly as he peeked at the child. “What’dyou guys decide to name ‘em?”

Genji glanced over his shoulder and Zenyatta nodded, Lucio giving him a thumbs up. Hanzo wasn’t sure what the meaning was behind the gestures but when Genji turned around, he met his brother’s eyes.

“Her name shall be Tsubaki,” Genji replied. “Tsubaki Shimada-Correia dos Santos. Our little flower.”

Hanzo has too many thoughts swirling around his head. Tsubaki, a name that he knew very well, was their mothers’ name. This little girl with her brown eyes and tuft of dark hair would bear their mother’s name. Would have their cursed blood in her veins. Would be part of their family which was growing by the minute. Would become a vessel for her own spirit just like his son.

Shingen.

“Ya alright?” Jesse asks, one hand on the archer’s shoulder.

Hanzo shoots his husband a grateful smile then looks down at the babies. Shingen staring at Tsubaki curiously while she seemed more interested in the lights on Genji’s armor than her cousin. But once her eyes flicked to Shingen, she stared back at him. Hanzo knew they wouldn’t be able to see each other until later but the connection was there. Perhaps they knew the other existed and that was enough to acknowledge their presence.

“Yes, I’m alright.” Hanzo sighs, smiling gratefully at his younger brother who returned it, then down at his new niece.

“Welcome home, Tsubaki-chan.” 


	4. A New Addition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and Jesse try to put their son to sleep and Shingen becomes an older brother.

It had been three years since the newest additions to Overwatch’s family had been born. Three wonderful years full of sleepless nights, questions to God of why babies cried at the unholiest of hours, teething, urging for a simple word like “dad”, “papa”, or “baba” (as Tsubaki took to calling Zenyatta), and baby-proofing everything so the little tykes wouldn’t get hurt. And Jesse wouldn’t have traded those moments for anything in the world. The sight of Hanzo sleep-addled, mindlessly waving his finger around for their son to grab at and gnaw on as he finally went down for a nap, was burned into Jesse’s mind. He’d stay in the doorway and watch the two play together. Hanzo cooing softly and whispering words of love and affection in Japanese along with his nickname for the small boy — taiyōu or “sun”.

The name couldn’t be more fitting. Shingen lit up a room with just his presence. Even after keeping both of his fathers up with wanting to play, Jesse at his wits end with trying to get the boy to sleep and Hanzo practically in a daze, a single smile from the boy was enough to erase their woes. Some nights, Jesse would walk the halls of Watchpoint Gibraltar with the boy held close to his chest in an attempt to make him drift into sleep. Others who were up late or returning from missions would stop in the hall to speak to him or Shingen, ruffling his hair or pressing kisses to his cheeks and hands.

Ana had given him advice after the fifth night in the row to just lay Shingen on his back and gently rub his stomach as he slept. Jesse thought it wouldn’t work but looking at Fareeha and remembering the hellion she was as a child, he didn’t think he would hurt to try. Bringing up the idea to Hanzo, the archer decided it would be best to try that night, and that is where Jesse found him. Sitting next to their little boy’s bed, gently waving his fingers around, his dragons in their smaller forms following the movements to keep the child’s attention.

Hanzo’s angular features, refined and god-like, were softened as his black hair fell in a dark curtain around his head within the reach of their son’s small fingers. A soft smile on his face as Shingen slowly sat up and pressed his hands to Hanzo’s cheeks. Jesse resisted the urge to awe, knowing that he was making that silly face most parents did when their children were doing adorable things. But it always warmed his heart to see how fascinated with Hanzo Shingen was. He remembered how shaken the archer had been when watching over their infant child. Worried that Shingen would grow to resent him if he knew who Hanzo “truly” was or what he’d done.

"Who ya truly are," Jesse guffawed and flicked his husband’s ear. "Yer truly his dad, and ‘m his pa. What else matters?"

At the time, Jesse knew the words might have been harsh. It may have seemed like he was dismissing Hanzo’s fears and worries. But maybe they were true. Shingen absolutely loved Hanzo and watching the boy press his nose against his Hanzo’s, making a light “boop” noise and giggle, only made the idea of Shingen being repulsed by the archer sillier.

“You must sleep, little sun,” Hanzo chided, voice soft and words firm, his hands gently easing Shingen down onto his back.

“I’m not sleepy,” Shingen protested, and Jesse could practically hear the pout in his voice.

If it was him, folding would have been the easiest thing to do. Shingen’s pouts were otherworldly and the cowboy would bet good money that Sombra or Fareeha had something to do with it. His little lip would jut out and eyes would get so big and watery. Then his voice would have this little quiver and Jesse knew that he would be in for it if he looked at him. Hanzo was impervious to it though. Perhaps it was because he’d been an older brother for as long as he could remember and Genji was a force to be reckoned with.

“I know, little one.” Hanzo empathized, gently brushing back Shingen’s hair with calloused fingers. “But the moon is up, so the sun must go down.”

Shingen hummed contentedly. The pout receding into a wide smile as he nestled into the blankets Hanzo tucked around him. Slowly yet surely, the dragons would come to lay near his head, one on either side. He gently patted Udon’s head, running his fingers over the dragon’s scales,then drawing it close into a hug. Soba would drape its long body over Shingen’s shoulder and rub its muzzle against his cheek.

“So the stars can play?” Shingen asked, blearily looking up at Hanzo, as he tried to fight off sleep.

But Hanzo would not be beaten, continuing his gentle strokes through Shingen’s hair as he spoke, “That is right.”

And just as Shingen began to drift into sleep. His eyelids fluttering shut and opening in gradually slowing successions, Jesse pushed away from the doorway and the spurs on the back of his boots jingled. Both dragons tensed up and Shingen’s eyes flew open as he sat up hurriedly, knocking Hanzo’s hand away from his head with the force of his movement.

“Papa!” He yelled, eyes bright and arms full of irritable dragons glaring pointedly at the guilty cowboy.

Hanzo looked at Jesse with narrowed eyes and the cowboy raised his hands in defense, chuckling nervously. Surely Hanzo wouldn’t kill him in front of their son. Shingen would be absolutely heartbroken if Jesse was gone. And maybe the archer realized that as he relented, leaning away so Shingen could clamor out of his blanket cocoon and to the foot of his bed. Jesse strolling over with open arms as he knelt down to envelop his son in a warm embrace. Shingen’s head tucked against his neck and Jesse tried to focus on his son rather than the nips from the dragons, irate by their ruined progress, or his husband glaring daggers at his head.

“Hey now, ya still up, sunshine?” Jesse pulled out of the hug to press a kiss to Shingen’s forehead. Then cautiously, he glanced at Hanzo and grinned. “Hey darlin’.”

“Jesse,” Hanzo replied coolly, though the corner of his lips twitched upwards in a smile. “I am glad that you are here. Shingen had something that he wanted to ask you.”

Alarms blared in Jesse’s mind and he ran through the past twenty-four hours in a desperate attempt to fathom whether he’d done anything wrong that his son might’ve told Hanzo. Nothing came to mind but years of being on the run kept Jesse on his toes. Warily looking down at his bright-eyed child, whose smile would have calmed his nerves, if his father had not been staring at them with an unreadable expression.

“Yeah?” Jesse said, forcing a grin that might’ve come off as a grimace. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Little brother!” Shingen chirped, his hands closed into fists as he threw his arms up in the air.

Jesse stared at his son for a moment. Then he blinked, looked at Hanzo, and the archer decided to take pity on him.

“Moira informed Shingen that he will be having a sibling,” Hanzo said, each word dripping with saccharine sugar laced with poison.

The pretense put up for their son who knew Moira O’Deorain as “Aunt Moira” rather than the mad scientist whom almost all of Overwatch had an eye on. And right now, someone that Jesse wanted to put a bullet in. He didn’t think that he’d have to spill the beans so soon. Talk about another baby was dangerous especially when their shasing been the only child for three years of his life. With Tsubaki only two months younger, Shingen had someone that was around his age that he could grow up with and he’d grown accustomed to her presence. Integrating another child into their life who would need time and care could rock the already unsteady boat they were sailing on. Jesse groaned mentally. He’d planned this moment out so many times in his head but nothing ever felt right.

How could you tell a child that there would be another in their life and they’d have to share the attention?!

Hanzo grew up with Genji and their relationship was questionable at times only to grow when the two of them reached adulthood. And that was barring all the fratricidal problems they had to work out to get to where they were now. Jesse, on the other hand, didn’t have any family growing up besides Deadlock and Fareeha had been an adoptive little sister if nothing else — and mostly Ana’s problem. Tsubaki was Shingen’s friend but she wasn’t always in Hanzo and Jesse’s care and subjected to their undivided attention.

This was bad. This was very very bad.

“I wanna name little brother,” Shingen said.

Jesse froze. “D-Darlin’, we ain’t sure if your lil’ siblin’ will be a boy or a girl.” He shot Hanzo a frantic look, mouthing for help, only to be rebuffed by Hanzo’s silent eyebrow-raising stare which said ‘suffer’.

“But I want a little brother…” Shingen muttered, pouting in full effect.

Genetics be damned, Jesse would have done anything to make his little boy smile. But it didn’t matter to him whether the child was a boy or a girl and to his knowledge, Hanzo didn’t have a preference either. Though with Shingen’s eyes on him, Jesse didn’t have the heart to tell his son that his hope was unrealistic.

So Hanzo did instead.

“Wouldn’t a little sister be nice as well, Shingen?”

Shingen looked away from Jesse to the cowboy’s relief, contemplating his dad’s words, then nodding as he spoke, “Uh-huh..” He folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head to the side. “But Tsubaki is little sister..” Nodding sagely, Shingen smiled. “So I want little brother.”

At this point, they were losing the battle. The fact that Shingen thought of Tsubaki as his little sister was adorable and Jesse could see the gears turning in Hanzo’s mind to tell Genji about the development later.

“Y’know bud,” Jesse said, trying to keep the waver from his voice as he broke the news. “Whether it’s a little sister or little brother, they’re gonna be around a lot, and yer dad and I are gonna have to take care of ‘em.”

A pregnant pause followed as Shingen looked between them. His head tilted this way and then that, Soba and Udon jostling with the movements but otherwise remaining stationary on the boy’s person. As if they were waiting for an outburst that was steadily building up. Hanzo glanced at Jesse and Jesse returned the look when Shingen’s eyes wasn’t on him. The room was still, everyone holding their breath.

“Can I help?” Shingen asked, lowering his arms, his hands settled on his knees.

“Help?” Hanzo and Jesse repeated, looking at him then one another.

Both men were frozen in place. Speechless and unsure of what to do next. Jesse was almost certain there would be a fallout and Hanzo looked as if he had steeled himself for battle but was now unsure who it was that he was fighting.

“He wants ta help,” Jesse mouthed to Hanzo, and the archer shrugged in response.

“A baby is very serious, Shingen,” Hanzo replied, regaining his composure and looking at his son evenly. “You would be a big brother and as a big brother, you must look after your sibling.”

Shingen straightened up under his father’s stare. His head bobbing along with Hanzo’s words, far too enthusiastically to be taken seriously, but with the determination of a man on a mission. Jesse thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen but refused to “awe” or ruffle the boy’s hair at least for right now.

“No matter if they are a boy or a girl,” Hanzo continued, eyeing Shingen warily, resembling the picture perfect leader he’d been raised to be.

Shingen paused for a second. His head lowered, eyes wandering as he contemplated the gravity of the situation. Jesse sat with bated breath. Unwilling to even think of exhaling until his son nodded.

“Then you can help,” Hanzo affirmed, looking both pleased by the boy’s affirmation and relieved at the avoidance of a catastrophe. “But you must sleep.” With great care, Hanzo slipped his hands underneath Shingen’s armpits and lifted him up from the foot of his bed, laying him down with his head upon his pillow. The dragons slipping from around his body and laying beside his head as Hanzo tucked him in.

“But why?” Shingen whined, kicking his feet against the confines of his blanket.

Hanzo’s eyebrow raised, unimpressed by the escape attempt, and mulled over his words. Jesse could barely believe what his husband would say next. The sheer evilness of it all baffling.

“If you don’t, your little brother or sister won’t sleep either, and that means they won’t grow up to be able to play with you all day because they will have to sleep during the daytime.”

Was it horrible that they were manipulating their son into going to sleep? Possibly. But Shingen had fallen for it hook-line and sinker, his eyes growing to impossible sizes, an audible gasp punctuating his disappearance into his blanket.

“I’m going to sleep!” Shingen cried, wriggling around for a few minutes before falling silent, the dragons wiggling their way into the blanket after giving Hanzo a disapproving stare for scaring their young ward. Hanzo smiled in return and glanced at Jesse.

“You’re welcome,” he mouthed.

Jesse nearly threw his head back with raucous laughter if not for the small child between them. But once they were out of earshot, he snickered and drew Hanzo close to his side, moving to press a noisy kiss to the archer’s cheek only to be met with a pillow instead.

“And that’s for waking him up when I had almost put him to bed.”

* * *

 

Months would pass from that day leading up to the moment where the newest addition to their family would be born. Jesse and Hanzo tried to keep it under wraps. But like every other birth in the reformed Overwatch, preparations were to be made and excitement was abundant. Shingen was leading the charge and Tsubaki was right behind him. Both children sneaking into the med bay to catch a glimpse of the incubator housing their newest family member. Tsubaki would ask tons of questions to Genji and Zenyatta on how it was when she was inside. Lucio was more than happy to tell her as he’d been the calmest one out of the three.

Shingen, on the other hand, returned daily to regale his soon-to-be-born sibling about what he’d done during the day or the games they’d play together. And more than once, members of Overwatch would find the boy curled up in a chair beside the incubator, sleeping soundly with his cheek pressed against the glass. When asked, he said that he didn’t want to let his sibling be lonely.

“Otou-san stayed with Uncle Genji when he was sick,” Shingen told Jesse. “I wanna stay…”

And so they set him up a little bed next to the incubator where he could stay with his new sibling as much as he wanted. Or at least until someone could pry him away long enough. However, when the day came that the baby was born, Shingen had been right there alongside his parents. Hanzo held the squirming child on his hip. Jesse standing alongside them, wringing the brim of his hat in his hands. Shingen struggled, trying to catch a peek as Moira and Angela worked to remove the child from the incubator and clean them up.

“You must be patient, little sun,” Hanzo reminded him, unfazed by his constant motions, the archer’s free hand used to pry one of Jesse’s from his hat.

Shingen grumbled and folded his arms across his chest. “But I want to see my sibling, otou-san.”

The cowboy felt the same way. When Shingen was inside the incubator, Hanzo told Jesse that he’d had a prophetic dream about him and it had come true. But for this child, neither of them dreamt anything prophetic or otherwise. He was eager to see whether their new kid would take after him or Hanzo What would they be like? What would their smile look like?

“I know, but you will have every day from here on to be with them,” Hanzo reassured to both his son and husband alike.

Out of the three of them, he seemed to be the calmest and it did wonders for Angela who approached them with a tired smile and a bundle in her arms. She’d done wonders for them in the past and while Jesse knew that being around Moira was not one of her top three past times, Angela insisted that she’d oversee the birth of their children simply because they were important to her. And while Shingen was excited to see his new sibling, he sobered up as Angela approached, giving her one of those warm smiles.

“Hi Aunt Angela,” he said.

“Hello Shingen,” Angela replied, rocking the small child in her arms. “We have someone that would really like to meet you.”

“Baby sister?” Shingen asked, eyes wide as he peeked over, Hanzo and Jesse sharing a smile.

“No, no.” Angela giggled. “The baby is a boy.”

Jesse’s heart leapt at that and he peered over into the cloth-covered bundle. A small baby with tawny skin, a tuft of brown hair atop of his little head, and brown eyes looked back at him. Small hands waving about unsurely and eyes trained on everything that moved or even existed in the space around him. Hanzo elbowed Jesse in the ribs and the cowboy suppressed a yelp. Looking at his husband, Hanzo met Jesse’s stare and gestured to Shingen who was enraptured by the baby’s presence.

They’d agreed that Jesse would name the baby this time. The dragons having gotten Hanzo’s pick for Shingen’s name.

“His name is Gabriel or Gabe for short,” Jesse announced to everyone present.

Moira huffed, eyes rolling as she turned her back on the scene, while Angela smiled serenely. They both knew Jesse’s respect and love for the former Blackwatch commander, Gabriel Reyes. It seemed only fitting for one of his children to bear the name of the man who was like a father to him.

“Gabriel..” Shingen repeated, reaching out for the baby’s outstretched hand. “Gabe..” The baby’s small fingers curled around his older brother’s, holding on tightly out of reflex. “Baby Gabe..”

Shingen was transfixed on Gabriel’s presence. Everything else in the room seems to disappear as Shingen focused entirely on Gabriel. His thumb rubbing against Gabriel’s curled fist, other hand gently brushing through his hair, in the same manner, Hanzo had done to him.

“Hi..” Shingen greeted nervously, gulping as Gabriel looked at him.

“He can’t talk yet but.,” Angela said, sensing his nervousness as she stepped closer to bring the brothers together.

“I like him,” Shingen blurted out, smiling as Gabriel shifted around in his blanket.

“Yeah?” Jesse said, wrapping an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders as he watched them. Gabriel smiling as he continued to kick his feet, and Shingen entirely fixated on his little brother. “Well, I think he likes you too.”


	5. It's Not Fair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zenyatta and Genji educate their daughter on forgiveness and Lúcio would never be left out.

Tsubaki shouldered her backpack wearily as she trudged her way up the stone steps leading to her front door. Her cheek ached from the fist that connected and the roots of her hair felt sore from all the tugging. Although she’d won the fight, she didn’t feel great about it at all. A note for her parents sat in the bottomest and darkest part of her backpack, the object feeling like it weighed a ton just like her heart. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the sleeve of her shirt. Part of her wondered what might happen if she stayed outside for the rest of the day.

Her teachers said that she couldn’t stay at school. Something about needing to go home and face the music. But she didn’t want to listen to music. Music would remind her of her pai, and his beats that would play all through their house as he skated around on sock-covered feet, humming the lyrics. His smile was almost as bright as the neon-green clothes he wore or the lights on his skates. Tsubaki shuddered as bitterness washed over her.

Would he be angry at her for what she’d done?

She didn’t think about it before but the thought of her pai being mad at her was frightening. Almost as frightening as her papa taking off his visor and looking at her with his trademark frown and sad eyes. Her pai said that he only used that look when he wanted to get his way or he was very disappointed. And Tsubaki never wanted to be on the receiving end of the latter. But worst of all, what if her baba found out?

Tsubaki pressed her back against the door and sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside. The thought of all three of them being angry at her was too scary. Much scarier than fighting a kid that was much bigger than her.

“You seem troubled, Tsubaki-chan,” a familiar synthetic voice said to her.

Jumping to her feet, Tsubaki nearly fell over if not for Genji reaching out and supporting her lower back with his hand. The door had opened quietly while she was caught up in her thoughts and the cyborg stood there patiently until she’d sunk down to the ground. Looking back into her papa’s visor, Tsubaki smiled weakly.

“I’m fine, papa,” she replied, carefully stepping away from him with her head bowed.

Maybe if he couldn’t see her eyes then he wouldn’t know she was lying. And Tsubaki really tried hard not to run into her papa’s legs, hugging him tight and wishing he could turn back time like her Aunt Tracer. A few seconds passed and when he didn’t say anything, Tsubaki’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She held her breath as the hissing noise from his mask’s removal punctuated the arrival of the look. His hand touched her shoulder and Tsubaki gulped, steeling her resolve and sneaking a peek up at her father’s face. But the look was nowhere to be found. Instead, his eyes were soft and a warm shade of brown, staring down at her with emotions that she couldn’t put into words aside from one.

Her eyes burned and she sniffled, looking down to wipe at them with her sleeve again. She was a big girl and she had to face what she did wrong. But her eyes wouldn’t stop prickling and her sleeve was getting wetter as tears fell down her cheeks. Speaking of, her cheek hurt so much and her father’s fingers were cool to the touch as they ran across the bruised area. Tsubaki sniffled louder and stepped closer, pressing her forehead against her papa’s stomach.

“I’m sorry, papa,” she whimpered, taking in a deep shuddery breath. “I didn’t mean to lie.”

One of her papa’s hands touched the back of her head, gently stroking through her hair. The other eased her backpack off her shoulder and set it on the hook beside the door. Once it was put away, her papa lifted her into the air and settled her on his hip like when she was a baby. And Tsubaki did feel like a baby. Sniffling, face slowly reddening, hidden in the hollow of her papa’s neck as she cried and let him walk her through the house after shutting the door. Their cat, Socks, trailed after her papa after seeing that Tsubaki wouldn’t be walking through the door herself.

Her pai’s beats could be heard from his sound room, muffled behind the door as they passed by. A pang of guilt made Tsubaki’s chest feel tight. Was her pai not playing music because she’d gotten in trouble?

She couldn’t help but feel so bad for what she’d done and pressed her cheek harder against her papa’s neck. When he stopped moving, Tsubaki could hear a soft chiming noise like bells. She sniffled and pulled away from her hiding place to see her baba sitting cross-legged and floating as he always was. His necklace of orbs were spread out around him floating and circling his still form even as they approached.

“Tsubaki-chan,” Genji said, looking down at her. “Your baba and I would like to speak to you about what happened at school today.”

She gulped and twisted her fingers in the smiley face on her t-shirt. Maybe it wasn’t too late to run out the front door. But her papa was super fast and he would be able to catch her without even breaking a sweat. And her baba might be even more disappointed and her pai might be really mad. Before Tsubaki knew it, her mouth was moving and her feet shifted making the lights on her sneakers flash different colors. Before, she really liked the flashing colors but now it seemed like warning signs.

“Is pai mad?”

Gulping, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her hands closer to her chest. Her heart was beating so fast that it might explode and her hands felt hot just like her face. The corners of her eyes were pricking again and she told herself not to cry. A big girl didn’t cry even when her papa’s hand touched her cheek, a cool and comforting reminder to stay in the present rather than lifting off into her own world. Sneaking a peek up at her papa, he didn’t look mad at all. His eyes were soft and a little sad, his usuals smile nowhere to be found, replaced with a tiny frown.

Oh how she hated that frown.

“No, no,” her papa reassured, in a voice far too quiet and soft to be his. “He has a few deadlines to meet before the release of his next album.”

Tsubaki released a heavy sigh, her shoulders dropping and fingers loosening their grip on the mangled smiley face.

“When he is free,” her papa continued. “He may wish to speak to you, perhaps you can ask to listen?”

“Okay…” Tsubaki replied, unsure in her feelings of confronting her pai later or right now. Taking in a shaky breath, she removed her bookbag and rummaged around inside of it for the note that her teacher wrote. Handing it to her father with trembling hands, Tsubaki stared down at her feet, unwilling to look up even as her baba’s humming orbs grew louder and closer.

“My teacher said to give you this…” Tsubaki forced out, her voice small and weak to her own chagrin.

Because after her papa read it then he’d know that she was a terrible no-good kid. He’d look at her like a monster and her baba would too. And deep down, she really really would have liked to run away before either of them could think bad about her. It made her stomach twist and turn and do all kinds of flips and knots. The cool hand on her cheek receded, her papa taking the note from her and then placing his hand in her empty one.

“Thank you, but..”

Tsubaki glanced up and saw the note sitting in her baba’s hands. Her chest tightened up as he held it up and seemed to look it over. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, she was practically floored when he crumbled it up and tossed it into the nearest waste bin.

“You don’t want to read it?” Tsubaki asked, incredulously.

Her papa sat down next to her baba, his legs crossed in the same way they were when he meditated. Gently, he guided her closer to him and let her sit down on his thigh with her legs propped up on his other thigh. One of his hands supported her back while the other held her trembling hand, rubbing small circles on her skin.

“Although your teacher may be wise,” Her baba said. “We believe it is important to hear what you have to say.”

Tsubaki looked down at her hands. This wasn’t what she expected at all. Maybe yelling or ignoring or grounding her or buying a rabbit instead of keeping her, but not listening. Her papa’s hand gently pushed against her shoulder and Tsubaki leaned over, letting her cheek rest against his armored stomach. Her face felt hot against the cool metal and the backs of her eyes stung. Tsubaki tried to stiffen her upper lip and keep the tears from falling, gulping them down as best as she could.

“I got in a fight with a bigger kid because…”

Her chest felt tight and her heart hurt. What if she told them and they didn’t like her anymore? What if they thought it was stupid and hated her?

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she sniffled hard, hugging closer to her Papa.

“He started it,” she whimpered, voice shaky and lip wobbly. “He made fun of our family.”

Everything seemed to fall out and all of the anger that pent up inside her like a loaded spring was letting loose.

“He called papa a tinman and baba a bucket of bolts,” she said in one breath, coughing and wiping her eyes, dry heaving. “And papa isn’t a tinman! He has a heart, I— “

Her mouth felt warm just like her face, and the tears wouldn’t stop. Her baba’s orbs were quieter and her papa’s fingers ran through her hair as he held her like a baby.

“I hear it beating whenever he lets me lay on him when I can’t sleep,” Tsubaki insisted, patting her hand against Genji’s chest. “And baba isn’t a bucket and he doesn’t even have bolts!”

She’d seen bolts before in her Grandpa Torbjörn’s toolbox. And her baba didn’t have any of those at all.

“He said mean things about omnics and kept calling me a robo-girl and adopted and…” Her fists trembled, lips drawn in a thin line, shoulders hunched and then she exposed.

“What does he know?!”

She felt like a silly baby that couldn’t stop crying or getting angry. But it felt like her blood was on fire and if it hadn’t been for Ramen’s small face nosing against her cheek and Sock jumping into her lap, she would’ve exploded again. Sock’s fur was soft against her fingertips and Ramen’s nosing tickled despite the throbbing pain threatening to sour her mood again. Tsubaki couldn’t bring herself to frown, scowl, and brood in her anger with Sock curled up in her lap and Ramen draped across her shoulders. It was especially hard when she snuck a glance up at her papa and saw him looking down at her with a tiny smile.

Part of her was frustrated and wanted to ask why he was smiling at her. She’d done something terrible and it was an adult’s job to punish her, right? But the other part, the one that was happy that he wasn’t angry with her or disappointed, felt guilty. Like she’d broken some unspoken rule.

“It is alright to be angry, Tsubaki-chan,” her papa sighed, leaning down, his lips brushing against her forehead. “Your temper is just as bad as mine.”

He laughed, his shoulders shaking and Tsubaki wanted to know what was so funny. Most kids were scolded for having bad tempers. It made them angry, break rules, fight each other, and hurt themselves. And her papa didn’t have a bad temper. He was always nice, sometimes he could be mischievous or a “brat” as her Uncle Jesse and Hanzo said, but he meant well. He even let her pull pranks with him although their baba would make them apologize when they took it too far. Her papa would never hurt anyone else.

“But you are also kind,” her papa interjected. “Just like your baba.”

Ramen tightened its hold on Tsubaki’s shoulders when she started to curl in on herself again, Sock taking the opportunity to spread himself across her legs to keep her from pulling them up too far. Traitors — the both of them, she thought. Her shoulder shook and she gently ran her fingers through Sock’s fur and basked in the warmth of Ramen’s presence, her cheek against her papa’s stomach.

“And you’re honest, just like your pai.”

Genji held Tsubaki close to him and rocked her gently just as his mother had done to him as a boy. His daughter, a force of nature just like her namesake, was often overcome by her feelings when they welled up and unable to stop them as they let loose. In the past, he’d been just the same. Consumed by his own anger, his doubt, and his insecurities which led to many of the tragedies that helped to shape who he was. This fight, while unprecedented, was one of the less harmful ways for Tsubaki to learn a valuable life lesson. And if it was up to Genji, his daughter would never know the same pain he had.

“You really are our daughter,” Genji muttered, allowing Tsubaki to cling to him as her shoulders shook, tears and sobs wracking her small frame. Sock took that moment to abandon the girl’s lap in exchange for a drier perch upon Zenyatta’s shoulders while Ramen held her a bit tighter. Out of the corner of his eye, Genji could see Zenyatta hovering close to them, one hand resting upon the small of the cyborg’s back while the other sat upon Tsubaki’s knee.

“You will make many mistakes,” Genji continued, pressing a kiss to Tsubaki’s forehead, brushing her hair away. “Some little, and some big. But remember this, no matter what you do, we will love you always.”

His heart nearly broke as Tsubaki sobbed into his chest. Holding his daughter as close as he could, Genji whispered soft words of encouragement in his native tongue and rubbed circles on her back. After her cries died down, she pulled away from him and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Fighting for what is important is a good thing, Tsubaki,” Zenyatta said at last, his voice soft like the feather light touches to his daughter’s knee. “However, there will be people who do not believe in what you do. You cannot fight them all and anger will only brew hatred and negativity. We cannot control the actions of others, but we can control ourselves. You must find the balance, priya.”

Reluctantly, Tsubaki looked up to meet the sensors on his faceplate and her fingers touched his own. The sensors in his fingertips registered her fingers were warm although slightly damp from the tears she’d wiped away. Transferring the heat radiating from his orbs to his fingertips, Zenyatta took his daughter’s hand in his own, her fingers resting against his palm. Slowly yet surely, Tsubaki relaxed and let her fingers curl in his palm.

“How do I do that?” Tsubaki whispered.

Zenyatta felt the weight of Genji’s stare along with their daughter’s and if he possessed the capacity to do so, he would have smiled. They were so much alike. Curious brown eyes staring at him with all of the trust and wonder in the world. What he would do to erase the pain they carry was impossible but Zenyatta was certain he’d defy even the Iris if it meant bringing smiles to their faces. For now, all he could do was guide them.

“Meditate,” Zenyatta said softly, holding his daughter’s hand in his own. “Why were you angry?”

“He talked badly about our family,” a dark look crossed Tsubaki’s features, each word leaden with negative emotion.

Undeterred, Zenyatta nodded and pressed on,“Why did you fight?”

The dark look in Tsubaki’s eyes was replaced with one of confusion and she held Zenyatta’s hand a little tighter. “Because I love you…” She said, as if it was common knowledge, and for Zenyatta it was.

He knew just how much their daughter loved them and just like Genji, she had a habit of going overboard in her protectiveness.

“Your love for us drove you to fight another person to defend your idea of who we are?” Zenyatta questioned, gently patting her hand with his own. “Was there another way?”

“Another way?” Tsubaki shot Genji an incredulous look, as if she couldn’t fathom an alternative to what’d been done. If the situation was less serious, Genji might have laughed but instead he looked at his daughter insistently.

“To resolve the issue,” he explained.

Zenyatta nodded, capturing Tsubaki’s attention with a pat on the hand. “Perhaps you could have talked to him, told an adult, or ignored him unless he touched you first.”

Although Zenyatta believed in conflict without violence, he would not tolerate someone harming his little girl. It may have been “unladylike” for Tsubaki to defend herself physically but Zenyatta would rather be dismantled piece by piece than live knowing he’d influenced his daughter otherwise. Genji had already taken to teaching Tsubaki self-defense, wall-climbing, and how to use shurikens (to Angela’s dismay). If it was up to Zenyatta, she’d never need those skills but the world they lived in was unpredictable and both of his husbands insisted that she be ready in the event they were no longer there.

“But the things he said were mean...” Tsubaki whined, rousing Zenyatta from his thoughts, her frown set in place and eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not fair that he gets away with it.”

“I have been insulted many times, Tsubaki-chan,” Zenyatta interjected, cutting her off before Tsubaki could work herself into another explosion. “And yet here I am. Words and actions from those who would rather hurt than help me are worth fairly little,” he said softly. “So, do you know what you must do?”

All of the anger that welled up inside of Tsubaki slowly dissipated, her shoulders slumping and hand uncurling, laying flat between Zenyatta’s. She took in a deep breath then exhaled.

“Apologize for hitting,” she grumbled, the frown turning into a scowl.

Zenyatta sighed. She looked just like Genji used to when she scowled like that. “That is right,” he replied. “You may be made fun of for showing regret for your actions but it is not your duty to convince another, Tsubaki. As long as you feel at peace within yourself, that is all that matters.”

Tsubaki tilted her head back to look up at Genji. The cyborg looking down at her, smiled softly and nodded, tapping the corner of his lip with a finger. Moving the finger to the corner of her lips, he tried to turn it up into a smile and Tsubaki struggled to maintain her frown though her efforts were for naught. Under the warmth of Genji’s beaming smile, Tsubaki returned it and Zenyatta watched them fondly.

“But what if he says it again?” Tsubaki asked. “What do I do then?”

Zenyatta hummed, a moment passing before he spoke. “Channel your anger,” he said, continuing at the head tilted confused stares from both father and daughter. “How can you express that anger without hurting someone else but telling how you feel bad?”

Genji’s mouth opened in a smal ‘o’ and he nodded sagely. Tsubaki looking up at him curiously, eyebrow raised, then to Zenyatta. Her eyes scoured the expanse of his face to try and discern the answer until something clicked. Looking around them, Tsubaki oohed in awe and smiled.

“Talking,” she replied, sagely nodding a bit too hard to be taken seriously.

Genji chuckled, patting her lower back. “Do you feel better, talking to us instead of waiting outside?”

A pinkish hue stained her cheeks and Tsubaki pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, Ramen unwinding from her shoulders. “I was scared…” She admitted, looking away from them. “But now, I feel.. happy?”

One hand settled over her heart, she looked up and watched Ramen dance through the air and weave through the trees planted in their backyard. The sun slowly slipping beyond the horizon painting the sky in orangeish hues. In the dim lighting, her baba’s orbs cast a warm yellow light and the lights on her papa’s armor complimented the yellow with green. Wrapped up in their arms, she felt safe and secure, and less afraid.

She snuggled closer to her papa and traced small circles on her baba’s hands. Together, they sat in silence for a few minutes and listened to the sounds of cicadas chirping and the humming of her baba’s orbs and her papa’s whistling vents.

“Am I in trouble?” Tsubaki asked after a while, smiling sheepishly.

Her papa looked at her papa and they stared at one another for a rather long time, communicating in a quiet way that she couldn’t understand just yet. Her cousin, Shingen, said that his parents did the same thing sometimes. It was something that only adults who were really in love could do. Maybe that’s how they were really good with fighting if they could just reach other’s mind.

“No,” her papa said at last and Tsubaki released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “We think that the guilt and anguish you felt over your actions is punishment enough.”

They could say that again. She felt awful for what she’d done and the idea that her parents hated her didn’t make it any better. Sighing with a grateful smile, Tsubaki felt her determination return in full force. “I will be better, papa, baba..” She promised, pumping a fist into the air just like her pai did at his shows.

“You do not have to be better,” Genji reassured, the words addressed not only to his daughter but perhaps to the him of the past who strived to be better until he couldn’t abide by those rules any longer. “Just be yourself. That is the Tsubaki-chan we love.”

Tsubaki smiled and wrapped her arms around Genji’s neck, hugging him as best as she could from the strange angle. But it was enough to make the cyborg practically melt as he hugged his daughter close to him. Zenyatta’s arm wrapping around his shoulder, the omnic’s presence a comfort as they held onto one another. Unbenknownst to them, the door to the outside patio had slid open and in the doorway stood Lúcio with one hand on his hip and the other.

“Hey now, am I not invited to the group hug?”

Tsubaki pulled back quick as lightning, her eyes bright and voice loud. “Pai!”

“Minha querida!” Lúcio greeted, opening his arms to her as she scrambled out of Genji’s lap to throw herself at him. “I knew you wouldn’t leave me out.”

Lazily twirling her around in a circle, he hugged Tsubaki close to his chest and pressed kisses to her face, making her laugh and wriggle in his arms. Walking out, he closed the door behind him then took a seat on the left side of Genji.

“So, I take it the talk went good?” He asked, leaning to gauge Genji and Zenyatta’s expressions. “And everybody is feelin’ okay?”

The monk gave him a thumbs up with all of the arms that he could conjure up while Genji grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. Sure enough, things were back to normal although it also felt as though something shifted just a bit. Always within his nature, Genji leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to Lúcio’s lips. The DJ smiling into it as he returned it to their daughter’s dismay, Tsubaki covering her eyes.

“Eeww!”

Lúcio snorted, breaking the kiss to hug his daughter close, poking her sides a few times before tickling her without mercy. “What was that, princess monkey tickles?”

“Pai stop it!” She kicked her feet haphazardly, laughing and trying to squirm out of his hold.

“Alright, alright,” Lúcio said, the tickling ceasing, his hand rummaging about in one of his pockets for one of his MP3s. “I got some beats I want you guys to listen to.”

Tsubaki’s eyes lit up and she practically shoved her face into the screen to read the titles. Lúcio smiled, the redness around her eyes and the warmth of her hands signified she must’ve been crying. And if he was being honest, he preferred this over the sullen and fearful girl standing outside of their house as if she was unwelcome after such a tiny mistake. No matter what, Lúcio thought as he pulled Tsubaki closer. He loved this little girl — their little girl and he wasn’t going to push her when she’d pushed herself so much. The bullying wasn’t fair but at the very least when she was animatedly asking him questions and Genji was enjoying himself giving his own interpretations with Zenyatta joining in here and there, the world felt a little brighter.

“Check this out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Next update is scheduled for: July 13th!


	6. Past It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo reflects on his life and what changes have come.

Hanzo could vaguely recall a time where he hadn’t walked in his father’s footsteps, analyzing every little thing he’d done from facial expressions to verbal cues, in hopes of becoming even  _ half  _ the man he was. As the years went on, the scion believed that he could never measure up to his father whose unconditional love and affection were only a distant dream. There was always another trial, another test, another obstacle keeping him from a healthy relationship with his father — and by extension, his younger brother. It took hurting Genji for Hanzo to realize how sick his family was. How hurtful their traditions were and how suffocating his father’s “love” could be. Fixing his relationship with Genji took time and dedication, slow yet steady pain, and raw unfiltered emotion that left Hanzo feeling mixtures of relief and agony.

 

Never did he imagine that reuniting with his brother would bear fruit. That he could shed the guilt that plagued him for so long. Make friends in unlikely places, find a purpose with others who’d carved out a place for themselves in the world. Or love. 

 

Nothing in this realm or the next could have prepared Hanzo for Jesse McCree. Their first meeting had been one with warm smiles that didn’t reach the eyes, curt greetings, backwards glances, and indifference. Overwatch was not a place to make friends — or at least that is what Hanzo told himself. It was where he would make his bones by repaying his lifetime debt to Genji for hurting him. Excluding himself from gatherings amidst the other agents, only interacting during training sessions and meetings were part of his repentance and his isolation. Arguments with Genji were frequent during those days and as Hanzo stewed in his anger, his disbelief in his younger brother’s transformation and forgiveness, the cowboy was always there.

 

He didn’t stay for long. Sometimes Hanzo only heard a jingle of spurs punctuating his exit, or see the brim of his hat disappearing around the corner, or the fringe of his serape. After the upteenth time it happened, something snapped in Hanzo and he confronted the outlaw over his unwarranted presence in the wake of a “Shimada Talk”. And just like the confusing entity he was, Jesse McCree just shrugged his shoulders and turned to face the setting sun.

 

Sunlight cast a halo over him and his eyes were more gold than brown. Hat resting in his mismatched hands, lips moving though Hanzo couldn’t hear what he was saying now. On the field, Jesse McCree fought like the devil but in the light of the evening sun, he was an angel. 

 

An angel of mercy.

 

“Thought you’d like t’ know,” the cowboy drawled, head tilted to the side, regarding Hanzo from the corner of his eye with a lazy smile. “J’st cause I got m’ eye on ya, doesn’ mean that I hate ya.”

 

His sentiments weren’t needed. His opinions didn’t matter. They were useless words that wouldn’t help Hanzo find his redemption. And yet somehow, they refused to leave his mind during his waking moments as he stared at the emptiness of his room thinking about how nice it felt. How warm the cowboy’s smiles were, and his sincere saccharine words for a man who  _ murdered  _ his brother. Hanzo knew that Jesse McCree’s mouth was capable of forming words like venom-laced needles, that would pierce even the thickest walls and errode them away. Part of him wanted to think that this was a trick to lower his defenses, test his resolve, and utterly destroy him. The other wanted to believe that it was a genuine attempt at… something.

 

Uncertainty was Hanzo’s greatest enemy. Fear was something that he loathed. Attending more than the meetings and trainings took time and patience. Interacting with people of different temperaments, ideologies, cultures, took a great deal of understanding and open-mindedness. But he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. But if someone asked him whether he regretted going along with the test, taking a  _ chance  _ with Jesse McCree, then he would have told them no. 

 

His Jesse. Rough around the edges, plagued with memories of the past and regrets of things he couldn’t fix, and hopeful for the future before them. With a heart as big as the world itself that’d been chipped away by those who were undeserving of it — he still found it in himself to love someone. To love Hanzo. Something that the archer would never take for granted for all their days. And from his love and affection, their children were born. 

 

Hanzo vowed that he wouldn’t subject them to the same pain that he’d been inflicted with. They wouldn’t have to guess whether he loved them or not. Whether they would be worthy one day and have to fight hard to be worthy the next. They would never have to  _ fight  _ one another for his affection because there was enough for both of them. 

 

They didn’t have to be perfect. They were  _ born  _ perfect. Their flaws, their strengths, their quirks, Hanzo wanted to spend the rest of his life getting to know everything about them.

 

His sons — one who shone brighter than the sun and the other warmer than a dragon’s fire. 

Gabriel, his youngest son, looked every bit like Jesse and if it wasn’t for his darker-colored eyes and freckled skin, Hanzo would’ve believed that Moira simply cloned the cowboy. Wild and free-spirited, with an endless imagination and need to know. Filled to the brim with questions for both his parents and his older brother, who was more than happy to answer, reminding Hanzo of Genji as a child. Instead of criticizing his younger brother for his misgivings and instructing him to do better for the clan, Shingen was patient and kind. He answered Gabriel’s questions when Hanzo and Jesse were stumped, translated what the younger boy was saying when their parents couldn’t understand, and looked out for him.

 

The two were thick as thieves and Hanzo felt an ache in his chest as he watched Shingen handle Gabriel.

 

Shingen, his eldest son, the spitting image of Hanzo in his childhood years but with a much softer edge. Angering him wasn’t an easy task unlike Hanzo who was waited on hand and foot as a child, Shingen waited. He didn’t mind silliness or childish ways and Hanzo was glad. There was no clan to force him to grow up and be more than what he is. He wouldn’t be pressured into making Shingen study and practice to ready him as the next heir. Goad him into shutting others out of his heart, believing he needs no one and nothing, and that no one comes before the clan — not his parents, his extended family, or even his little brother. 

 

If the day came that Shingen turned his blade towards Gabriel, Hanzo couldn’t fathom the idea. Of the kind and gentle boy that his eldest was becoming a monster. 

 

And although Sojiro might’ve been turning in his grave, Hanzo would rather his ancestors be disappointed than take away his eldest’s childhood, shame him for loving his family, or force him to bring his younger brother to heel by any means necessary.

 

Hanzo decided that he would rather what he has now. His husband surrounded by friends and family, laughing without a care in the world, and their sons playing with their cousins and friends while he watches on. They may not live in a castle and he may not have the fear and begrudging respect that his father had — but Hanzo feels that he has so much more.

 

And he doesn’t want to be the man that his father was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got a little bit out of hand. I was thinking about writing something with the kids but it veered off into me thinking about Hanzo, how he feels about his family, and that he doesn't want to be like his dad. Personally, I've had identity issues before where I felt to be accepted or thought that I was doing "good" at life - I had to be this specific person. And then I met people who liked me for who I am and I realized that it's better for me to just be me than be anyone else.
> 
> Moral of the story: Always be you.
> 
>  **Next update** : July 17th, 2018


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